


May I?

by YlvaUllsdotter



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2019 [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Cunnilingus, Dean x Reader, F/M, Fellatio, Galentine's Day Exchange, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Reader Insert, Smut, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2019, but fluffy, it's smut, mutual consent, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 09:38:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17764334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YlvaUllsdotter/pseuds/YlvaUllsdotter
Summary: Dean returns early and hears you moan his name in the shower. Turns out mutual consent is your new kink.





	May I?

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Galentine’s Day, Rachel [@sunriserose1023](https://sunriserose1023.tumblr.com/)! I slapped together a bit of mutual pining leading to sexy times and then a bit of fluffy fluff at the end. Enjoy your Dean ;)
> 
> This also fills my free space for [@spnkinkbingo](http://spnkinkbingo.tumblr.com/).

Dean thought he would be gone longer, but the case he had gone to check out turned out not to be a case after all. The Bunker was quiet when he came in from the garage, much as he had expected. Sam had texted to let him know he would be spending the weekend in Sioux Falls, helping the girls with some research, and Y/N was off on her own case somewhere in Missouri. 

Dropping the duffel in his room, he headed straight for the shower room, looking forward to a nice, long hot one. Except, when he opened the door, a cloud of steam billowed out around him, along with the sound of one of the showers running. He was just about to close the door when, through the thinned out steam, he caught sight of Y/N, and was suddenly physically unable to turn away.

She appeared almost ethereal, the steam partially obscuring her as if in a dream. Her shoulders were against the tiled wall, the hot water from the shower raining down over her body causing her skin to flush dark pink from the heat. It looked like her eyes were closed, and a small voice in Dean’s head told him to close the door and get out of there before she saw him. He ignored it, and instead, took a single step over the threshold and closed the door softly, leaning back against it.

One of her hands was on her breast, fingers playing with her nipple, while the other...oh god...the other was between her legs, fingers sliding between her folds, and every so often disappearing inside her. Dean’s jeans suddenly felt too tight, but he could not have moved even if the Bunker was falling down around them. 

Her chest rose and fell, her lips parted around heavy breaths, but the sound of the water drowned out any sounds she might be making. He imagined he could still hear her, inserting soft moans he had heard from her in other situations; and now he needed to adjust himself in his pants, but he was afraid she would see him if he moved, even though her eyes were closed. That little voice in his head chanted at him that he should not be doing this, he should not be watching her, this was Y/N, his best friend, but you would have had to physically drag him out of there to get him to stop.

Dean watched as her hand sped up, rubbing harder at her clit, and suddenly there was just the suggestion of a moan over the sound of the water. It almost sounded like a word, but still to faint to make out. 

His eyes were riveted to her, watching this private moment, shame burning in the back of his mind, but he could no more have left now than he could have sprouted wings. Moans filled the room, and bounced off the tiled walls, seeming to float in the clouds of steam, each one making him twitch. 

“Oh fuck, Dean…”

He froze. Did she just…? 

“Yes, god, Dean, right there, don’t stop…”

She did.

Dean felt like he had been hit in the head with a hammer. Right between the eyes. Then kicked in the gut. Whatever had been keeping him frozen in place seemed to vanish, and he fumbled behind himself for the doorknob. When he slid the door closed as softly as he could, moans of his name floated out along with the clouds of steam before they were cut off by the door.

She had said his name while she was… What did that even mean? He admitted, if only to himself in his own mind, that he had thought of her on occasion, but he never imagined she might think about him in the same way. Thoughts rattled around in his head as he walked back to his room. He would give her a half hour to finish up and get back to her room before he tried the showers again, but he was too wound up to do anything other than pace the small space, a frown creasing his forehead.

The next time he opened the shower room door, only a hint of steam remained in the air, and the room was blessedly empty. Dean quickly peeled his clothes off and stepped into the closest stall, turning the water on. Not until the water hit his body did he realize he was in the same stall she had used. He paused for a beat, then stepped out of the stall and opened the door, leaving it ajar. The look on his face when he turned back around was determined. Sink or swim, he was doing this.

* * *

Y/N was pulling a tank top over her head when she thought she heard a door open and close somewhere in the Bunker. Frowning, she stuck her head out her own door.

“Sam?”

When there was no answer, she went to check it out. She should have been alone, Sam had replied to her text saying he was away for the weekend, and Dean was on a case, so the sound was disconcerting. 

Turning a corner, she saw the door to the shower room, the one she had closed behind herself not ten minutes ago, and it was open just a crack. Cocking her head, she realized she could hear one of the showers running, and she approached the door while silently cursing herself for leaving her knife in her room.

Without touching the door she peeked around it, exposing as little of herself as possible. Steam filled the room, but quite a bit of it billowed out the door so she had a fairly clear view. What she saw made her eyes widen, and her lips parted before she could stop the soft gasp that wanted to escape.

Apparently, Dean had come back early from his case, because there he was in all his naked glory. He was turned away from the door, his head down and one hand propped on the wall as if holding himself up. The other hand disappeared in front of him and it took her a moment to realize what he was doing. 

The muscles in his back and arm flexed even while the rest of him stood stock still. Only when his head came up and the movements of his arm became more pronounced did it hit her what he must be doing, and she felt her face heat. She should not be watching this, but she could no more have closed that door than she could have breathed fire. 

In spite of her earlier activity, or perhaps because of it, she felt waves of heat roll through her, centering between her thighs. Over the sound of the water she heard a soft moan, and Dean’s hand moved faster. She realized she had moved a hand to her breast and was rolling her nipple through the fabric of the tank top. Since she had thought she was alone, she had left off her bra and she was glad for that now.

“Oh fuck...Y/N…”

She froze like a deer in headlights. Did he just…?

“Yes, Jesus fuck, Y/N, so good…”

He did.

The arm propping Dean against the wall bent at the elbow and he rested his forehead against it, his shoulders heaving with heavy breaths and probably moans too soft for her to hear. She could fill them in from memory though and felt the familiar tightening in her belly at just the thought. 

“Fuck! Y/N!”

It was a muffled shout. His hand slowed down and his whole body trembled, the sight making her whole body flush. Silently, on bare feet, she backed away from the door and hurried back to her own room, closing the door behind her and leaning against it.

What. The. Fuck?

So many thoughts raced through her head all at once. Fantasies she had entertained while getting off foremost among them. Was it actually possible that Dean reciprocated her feelings? He was always the one to drive home that relationships were impossible in the life, which was why she had never said anything, and her fantasies had stayed just that. Snippets of dreams to warm her in the night. But now?

She realized she was pacing and sat down on the bed to stop herself, resting her palms on her bare thighs and feeling how damp they were. Giving a tiny rueful laugh at herself, she wiped her palms on the short cotton shorts and adjusted the tank top. A thought hit her, and she almost ran out of her room toward the garage. 

The sleek black car was parked in its usual spot, a bit of mud staining the bottom of the chassis. Y/N put her hand on the hood and blinked. Cold. Which meant Dean had been back for at least half an hour. Still frowning, she started back to her room, but took a turn halfway there and ended up in the kitchen. 

* * *

Dean saw the shadow that had covered the crack in the door disappear while he was still coming down, and a small smile played on his lips. He finished his shower and dried off, wrapping one of the soft white towels around his waist before picking up his discarded clothes and heading back to his room.

Thinking positive thoughts, he only pulled on a pair of sweatpants over his boxers, and a clean t-shirt. Walking barefoot through the corridors, he started for her room when he heard a sound from the kitchen. Taking a different turn, he stopped in the open doorway at the top of the couple of steps down. She was standing at the island, her elbows on the top of it and her chin in her hands. He allowed himself a moment to admire the way her ass filled out those short shorts before he shook his head and cleared his throat.

She let out a squeak and whipped around like she expected a wendigo at least. Dean gave her a small wry smile.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he tried to keep his voice even, but just looking at her he could still see the image of her naked under the shower.

“Dean. I thought you were on a case,” she frowned at him, although she was not really upset.

“Yeah, I was, but it wasn’t our kinda thing. I thought you were on your own case down in Missouri?” Dean thought he managed to sound mainly curious.

“Yeah, no, I finished up faster than I thought I would,” she replied, watching him with a small frown. She turned away almost as quickly as she had before, rounding the island, and pulling the fridge open.

Dean made a noncommittal sound as he came down the steps and leaned his hips against the table, hands flat on the surface on either side of him.

She turned around holding two beers, almost flinching when she registered that he had moved. He was not really any closer to her, but somehow just being in the same room with him was...tense. She closed the fridge and walked over to him, holding one of the bottles out.

Dean took the beer, twisted the cap off and dropped it on the table before taking a drink, then resting the bottle on his thigh. He had no idea how to approach the subject he really wanted to bring up, so he watched her silently while she took a drink from her own bottle.

He felt a tingle along his spine, and a tightening in his belly, at the sight of her lips caressing the beer bottle. His eyes took in the way her fingers wrapped around the glass, and the way her throat moved as she swallowed; he felt a definite twitch in his pants and shifted slightly to hide it. He had to look away, and he took another drink from his own beer to cool himself down.

She moved a few steps away, to lean against the island, almost directly opposite Dean, the bottle held loosely at her side.

“So when did you get back?” the question was innocuous enough.

Dean felt his ears start to burn at the question, and he looked down at the bottle in his hand then up at the clock on the wall.

“Uhm, maybe...a little over an hour ago,” he replied, glancing at her and catching her nod before he looked down at the bottle again. His fingers were moving on their own, picking at the label.

She felt her face flush when he did not try to hide how long he had been back. For some reason, she had thought he might. Realizing that she was frowning, she smoothed her features with an effort of will, but she went right on watching Dean. It seemed almost like he was avoiding making eye contact, which only strengthened her suspicion. She knew him almost as well as Sam did, or Castiel, which meant she knew he was much smarter than he generally wanted people to believe. He was absolutely capable of planning that little peep show earlier. The question she did not have an answer for, yet, was why.

“Did you enjoy your shower?” she asked, in as innocent a tone as she could manage. 

Dean felt the heat spread from his ears to his cheeks when she spoke. He nodded before he managed to look up into her eyes.

“I did,” he left it at that, waiting for her next move.

“Fuck it,” she muttered and set the beer down on the surface behind her.

Dean cocked his head at that, but that was all he had time to do before she was crowding into his space.

“You saw me, didn’t you?” she asked so directly he almost flinched. Almost.

Looking into her eyes, he cleared his throat but still could not make the words come out. Instead, he nodded, face hot.

“That’s why you left the door open.”

It was not a question, but he nodded anyway, still unable to form words. She was so close, and the image of her naked in the shower would not leave his mind. He was so intent on her face, her eyes, that he almost flinched when he felt her hand on his arm. To cover, he slipped his tongue out and licked his lips, noticing her eyes flicking down, then back up to look into his again.

“I don’t mind that you saw me,” she said softly, her breath brushing over his skin.

Carefully setting his beer down, without breaking eye contact, he lifted his other hand to touch her face, but stopped with it hovering an inch from her skin, the look in his eyes waiting for her permission.

She nodded, and a small sigh escaped her when his hand made contact, her eyelids fluttering slightly. He caressed her cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, marveling at how soft her skin was. Of course, they had both seen the other partially unclothed before, it came with the job, patching each other up after hunts. But this was different. His touch was almost reverent as he half folded his fingers and brushed his knuckles along her jaw.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he whispered hoarsely.

Her tongue came out to wet her lips and she nodded.

“Then kiss me,” she breathed, closing the small distance between them until her body was pressed against his.

Dean’s hand cradled her face, his eyes never leaving hers until she closed them just before his lips touched hers. She felt a tightening in her belly, and her hand came up to grab his arm, just above his elbow. Without breaking the contact, Dean’s lips parted just enough to let his tongue swipe along the seam of her mouth. She opened up for him, and the taste of Dean suddenly seemed to surround her, almost overwhelming her. She licked into his mouth, their tongues pressing together, neither of them taking control, both of them simply enjoying the feeling of the other.

When he finally pulled away, they were both breathing hard. She slid her hand along his arm to take his hand before moving away, pulling him with her. She neither stopped nor looked back until they were at her door. Then she turned toward him, leaning against the wall next to it, still holding his hand. She could see the emotions swirling in his eyes - desire and hesitation - and gave him a small smile.

“I want this, Dean. I’ve wanted this for so long,” she assured him and opened the door. 

She let go of his hand, and stepped over the threshold, still keeping her eyes on his. Walking slowly backward, she did not stop until she felt the bed against the back of her legs.

Dean took a deep, shaky, breath before he followed her, closing the door behind him. He moved closer until he was the one crowding her, she craning her neck to look into his eyes, he bending his.

Again, he raised his hand at her nod, brushed his fingertips over her cheek, his thumb tracing her lips. His touch was so light, it was like he was afraid she would break if he was too rough with her.

She raised her own hand, stopping before she touched him, just as he had earlier.

He gave a small smile and nodded, and she caressed his face with soft fingers. The stubble on his cheeks felt rough against her palm, but she loved the feeling. With his fingers resting lightly against her cheek, the pad of his thumb against her bottom lip, she repeated what he had done to her, brushing her fingers over his cheek, and tracing his lips with her thumb.

He closed his eyes at her touch. It had been so long, years, since anyone had touched him like this. In fact, since before he met Y/N. He let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes. Her fingers continued to trace patterns among his freckles and he moved his hand to mimic her. Somehow, these soft touches were both soothing and arousing at the same time. Part of that, he suspected was because he had wanted to feel her touch for so damn long.

Her fingers traveled along his jaw and up to trace the shell of his ear, and his followed along on her skin. She was so soft, he almost wanted to cry at finally feeling her like this. When she brushed two fingertips over the spot just below and behind his ear, he shivered. When he did the same on her, he felt her breathing speed up. Down the side of the neck, they traveled, dipping into the slight hollow at the base of the neck, then tracing the collarbone. 

“Can I take your shirt off?” her breath fanned over his face at her question, and he nodded.

The hand that had been on his collarbone slid down his chest to where the shirt covered the waistband of the sweatpants, where it was joined by her other hand. Slowly, she pulled the shirt up until she could slip her hands under it. He sucked in a breath through his teeth at feeling those hands on his bare skin. She brushed light fingertips along that waistband, before sliding them up over his belly and chest. He lifted his arms to let her slip the shirt over his head and off, not even caring where it ended up.

Her hands came to rest on his hips, just above the waistband of his pants, and she shifted until her lips were almost touching his skin. Her eyes almost shone at him through her lashes.

“May I?” she breathed, making him shiver from the feeling of her hot breath caressing his skin.

Words failed him, but he nodded silently.

The tip of her tongue flicked out and over his nipple, and he hissed, unable to take his eyes off her. Her lips closed over the nipple, teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh, followed by her tongue soothing the slight sting. She kept that up until he was panting, then she moved to the other one. His hands came up to rest on her shoulders, squeezing gently as he sought to ground himself against the pleasure assaulting him.

He was a mess by the time she let up, with one final lick to each nipple. She straightened and placed a soft kiss on his lips before leaning back slightly. Looking down, he saw her breasts strain against the thin fabric of the tank top, her nipples as hard as his. His hand slid down from her shoulder along her upper arm, his thumb reaching out before he stopped himself. 

“Let me?” he whispered hopefully.

“Yes.”

His thumb swiped over her nipple, drawing a soft sigh-almost a moan- from her lips. Moving his hand, he rolled the hard nub between his thumb and index finger.

“Yes…” she breathed, leaning her head back, her chest thrust towards him.

Even his breath shook when he took her breast in his hand, his fingers still gently rolling and pinching the nipple. His other hand moved to mimic the motion on the other side, and this time she did moan. The sight of her was almost too much for Dean. 

“Is this ok?” he asked, voice trembling, as he lifted the hem of her tank top.

She nodded, her eyes on his, but his were on the skin revealed as he peeled the tank top off and over her head. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Dean whispered, his eyes drinking her in, his fingers hovering, but never touching, so close she could feel the heat of him.

She sank down to sit at the foot of the bed, and he fell to his knees between her legs. With her hand at the back of his head, nails scraping lightly over his scalp, she guided him to her. That was all the prompting Dean needed. His lips closed on one nipple, while fingers deftly found the other. Her hand stayed at the back of his head, fingers clutching at the short hair there, as he sucked and licked her nipple.

“Dean…” his name falling from her lips like a prayer sent a shiver up his spine.

He held her breasts and buried his face between them, breathing her in. Deep breaths drew in the scent of vanilla laced with the scent of her, and he felt himself twitch in his boxers at that. Her fingers combed through his hair, nails scraping over his scalp, and he would have happily stayed in this moment forever.

He felt her shift when she bent down, and then her hot breath caressed his ear.

“Take your pants off?”

Almost reluctantly, Dean moved away and stood before her, slipping his thumbs under the waistband of both pants and boxers. For some reason, even after the past few minutes, he felt shy. With his skin flushed and hot, he peeled the clothing off and stepped out of the pile of fabric, pushing it out of the way with his foot before he looked back at her.

Her eyes were wide, pupils blown with lust as she looked at him. Tanned freckled skin stretched over toned muscles, enough to make anyone drool. But his cock, standing proud just for her gave her that tight feeling in her belly. She reached out her hand, stopping short of touching him, and he twitched.

“I want to touch you,” she breathed, pressing her thighs together for friction.

“Yes. Please,” Dean replied, his voice raspy with desire.

Her fingertips caressed the smooth tip, the pad of her thumb swiping over the slit and drawing another hiss from him. Bringing her other hand up, she brushed her fingers along his length, feeling the velvety skin move under her touch. She wrapped the fingers of one hand around him to hold him steady as she gave it a little lick. 

Dean let his hands hang at his sides, unable to take his eyes off her as she handled his cock. The feeling of her fingers was amazing, the warm heat of her tongue beyond anything he could have imagined. He wanted to throw his head back in ecstasy, and he wanted to watch her every move.

Keeping her grip on the base of his cock, she slipped the head into her mouth and sucked gently while swirling her tongue around the soft skin. Dean let out a soft moan and flexed his fingers. Sucking more of him in, she flattened her tongue along the underside, feeling the hard ridge there as she let him slide slowly out between her lips. When she looked, his hands were clenched into fists, trembling slightly from not touching her.

She looked up at him through her lashes, her free hand moving down to cup his balls. Dean closed his eyes and huffed a heavy breath.

“Princess, if you keep that up, I’m not gonna last,” he rasped hoarsely.

She let go and scooted up on the bed a little, just enough so she could put her feet up for leverage as she slipped her shorts and panties off at once. Dean gripped the base of his cock while he watched her, eyes riveted to what she was doing.

Moving her feet apart, she let her legs fall open and brushed slim fingers through the short hair between them. She leaned back, supporting her weight on one hand, while the other slid two fingers between her folds, opening herself up for Dean to see. 

Dean was breathing heavily, green eyes riveted to the hand between her legs. Briefly, the image of her in the shower flashed through his mind, but that was a pale dream compared to what was right in front of him. The coil in his belly tightened a little more, tingles rolling up his spine.

“Fuck...so beautiful...baby, please, can I touch you?” his voice shook as he rasped out the few words.

“Yes. Touch me, Dean,” she whispered in reply, her fingers spreading her open for Dean.

With a sound almost like a groan, Dean fell to his knees at the foot of the bed, his hands, calloused and rough from years of hunting, caressing her thighs reverently. He turned his head just enough to place wet kisses along first one thigh, then the other, always keeping his eyes on her open folds, the treasure he was after.

Laying back, she moved her hands to her breasts, teasing her nipples while she watched Dean. His hands moved over the soft skin of her inner thighs, closer and closer to her pulsing core, until she felt his fingers spread her open. He stopped, looking up at her.

“May I?” his voice trembled with pent up desire.

At her nod, he bent down and breathed her in before dragging his tongue from bottom to top, giving her clit a flick. She shivered at the feeling, the coil in her belly tightening a little more. Using two fingers to spread her open, Dean licked into her, tasting her. Muffled moans vibrated through her, and she squeezed his head with her thighs. Her fingers brushed into his short hair and closed on two handfuls, pressing him closer. 

“Oh fuck, Dean, yes, right there, don’t stop,” she whimpered when his lips closed on her clit, the tip of his tongue flicking it over and over and over. 

Dean’s free hand came up and he slipped one finger inside her, to the sound of her moan. A string of curses interspersed with his name fell from her lips when he found her spot. She pressed his face against her so hard he could barely breathe, her thighs clenching around his head and keeping him in place. Then she shook, her hips bucked and she cried out wordlessly. Dean kept going until she physically pushed him away, only then acknowledging the throbbing between his legs. He was so hard he could have hammered nails.

“I need you, Dean. Need you now,” she managed, her voice hoarse as she pulled him up by those handfuls of hair she still had a grip on.

He shifted onto the bed and grunted when she pulled his lips to hers and kissed him hard. Her tongue licked into his mouth, tasting herself and they both moaned. Without breaking the kiss, they shuffled up on the bed until he was stretched out on top of her, her feet on either side of his hips, his cock trapped between them.

Her hands came down to squeeze his ass while she rolled her hips, the friction on his trapped cock making him moan into her mouth.

“Need to be inside you, Y/N. Please, let me?” his voice shook when he finally broke the kiss, only to brush his lips along her jaw and down her neck, the words mumbled against her skin.

“Oh god, yes, Dean, please, fuck me,” she managed, panting.

He lifted his hips just enough to grip his cock and line himself up. Because he wanted to make her feel good, he slipped the head through her slick folds, bumping it against her swollen clit until she whined with need.

“Stop teasing and just fuck me, Dean.”

Letting the head slip inside her, Dean moved his hands to prop himself up over her. She thrust her hips in small movements, wanting him inside her. When he pushed inside in one hard thrust, she cried out. 

Dean had to pause once he was all the way inside her, for fear that he would come too quickly like a teenage virgin, but she felt so good. Finally, he dared move and thought his mind had exploded. The warm soft feeling of her squeezing his cock inside her was heaven. Pure bliss. Then she did something with her muscles and his head fell down onto her shoulder while he panted hard.

She felt him trembling, holding back, and a stab of frustration flashed through her.

“I’m not a porcelain doll, Dean. I’m not gonna break. Fuck me like I know you want to,” she coaxed him, rolling her hips and working her floor muscles.

“Fuck,” he breathed against her shoulder.

He pulled out just a couple of inches before his head came up and he looked into her eyes, snapping his hips forward, driving into her hard and drawing a cry from her lips. He jackhammered into her, hard and fast, sweat dripping down his face and sticking their skin together wherever they touched.

She wrapped her legs around him and put her hands on his ass, urging him to go faster, harder, deeper. Words were lost to her, all that came out of her mouth was Dean’s name, chanted like a prayer. When he begged her to come for him, she shuddered, her whole body tensing beneath him, pussy squeezing his cock inside her.

“Fuck, baby, yes, oh fuck,” the words turned into a wordless grunt as he pulled out and fisted his cock, thick ropes of his come landing on her belly. She could not take her eyes off Dean’s face as he came, his own eyes squeezed shut in bliss as he shook above her, panting short shallow breaths and groaning each time another wave hit him. He was beautiful.

Finally, he opened his eyes, still dark with emotion, and looked down at her, a small smile playing on his lips. She reached up and caressed his face, pulling him down into a soft kiss that was somehow more intimate than anything they had just done.

Dean shifted and rolled over onto his back next to her, slipping one arm beneath her shoulders. She ignored the mess on her for the moment and propped her head on his arm, turning so she could continue to look at him.

“What now?” Dean whispered, green eyes full of doubt.

“More of this, I hope,” she replied with a small smile, while avoiding answering the question.

“C’mon, Y/N, you know what I mean,” Dean nudged her. “Putting myself out there here, so don’t laugh, but this...it’s something I’ve wanted since we first met.”

Her smile turned soft at seeing the vulnerability on Dean’s face.

“That long,” she breathed. “Dean, I’ve wanted it just as long,” she told him earnestly. Huffing a wry laugh, she leaned in to rest her forehead on his. “Aren’t we a couple of dumbasses, huh?”

Dean’s lips quirked up into a smile to match her laugh. He shifted enough to softly kiss her lips, then went back to gazing into her eyes.

“I guess we’re doing this?” his tone made it a question.

“I guess we are,” she replied. “But first, you need to clean up your mess.”

Dean huffed a laugh at that before he extricated himself and went to grab a washcloth from the sink. Afterward, they snuggled up under the covers, Dean wrapping himself around her protectively. Just as she was about to slip into sleep, she felt Dean’s voice rumble through his chest. The words were a breath caressing her ear.

“I love you, Y/N.”


End file.
